


Russian

by Shira_Lansys



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: At least I'm guessing it's bad, Bad Russian, First Date, Fluff, I used google translate, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, so it probably is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shira_Lansys/pseuds/Shira_Lansys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for the prompt "Bones trying to learn Russian to impress Chekov on their first date".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russian

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope no one reading this speaks Russian because I used google translate for it, so it's probably going to be extremely inaccurate.

“C’mon, Nyota, please!” Bone said, trying to keep up with Uhura’s quick pace as she strode through the ship. “I’m a quick student. You’ll see.”

“I’m sure you are, Doctor McCoy,” Uhura said, barely looking at him. “But I can’t teach you an entire language in a few days.”

“Don’t teach me the entire language, then,” Bones said. “Just a few phrases. Simple stuff, you know.”

Uhura halted and turned around to face him. “Why do you want to know Russian?” she asked. “And shouldn’t you be speaking with Chekov? My Russian’s good, but he’s a native speaker. You’d be better to learn it from him.”

“Well…” McCoy flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You see, about that…”

Uhura studied him appraisingly for a moment, before a grin broke out across her face. “It’s for him, isn’t it?” she asked. “For Chekov. You’re finally going to do something! Are you planning to ask him out in Russian?”

“Well…” McCoy repeated.

“You asked him already?!” Uhura said, her voice excited. “And he said yes?”

“No need to sound so surprised,” McCoy grumbled, but there was a small smile on his face.

“That’s great, Leo,” Uhura said, reverting back to his original name in her excitement, even though they were still on duty. “I’m really happy for the both of you.”

“So will you teach me a few things?” McCoy asked. “It’s our first date on Tuesday, but there’s not much you can do on a Starship. I want to make this different… I want to make it special.”

Uhura smiled at the awkward sincerity in his voice. “Of course I’ll teach you,” she replied. “Come to my quarters after your shift. We’ll see what we can do.”

* * *

 

McCoy hadn’t been kidding when he said there was very little to do for dates on a starship. Shore leave was brilliant for romance (or so he’d been told; he’d never experienced it himself), but unless you wanted to experience the risk of being discovered while making out in the engineering decks, there weren’t a lot of options for couples on the Enterprise.

He’d invited Chekov for dinner in his quarters, which unfortunately meant replicated food (about as unromantic as dining could get), and it was with no small sense of nervousness that he opened the door to let Chekov in.

“приветствие,” he said, which Uhura had told him loosely translated to mean “welcome”. The word felt strange and foreign in his mouth, and he really hoped he’d said it right.

Chekov looked surprised for a moment, and then giggled. “Did you perhaps mean приветствие?” he asked, pronouncing it so differently that McCoy could only just make out that it was the same word.

He flushed. “Probably,” he said with a shrug. Then he added, “вы хотели бы заниматься плаванием со мной?”

Chekov giggled again. “That might be a little difficult,” he said. “I vasn’t avare there vas a swimming pool on the _Enterprise_.”

Bones blinked. “Huh?”

“You just asked me if I’d like to haff swimming vith you,” Chekov said.

“Ah,” Bones said. “I meant dinner.”

Chekov smiled back. “I thought so. Да я бы с удовольствием ест с вами.”

Bones frowned, unable to make out any of the few words Uhura had taught him. “I really hope that meant yes,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing for Chekov to come in. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this language thing after all.”

“It did mean yes,” Chekov said, stepping in after him. “And you are not so bad. I vas much vorse learning English. Vhen I started at Starfleet, I vas wery hard to understand.”

“But you’re fine with it now,” McCoy said. He crossed over to the replicator. “What would you like to eat?”

“I vill have vhatever you’re haffing,” Chekov said. “I am not fussy. And I had to learn English wery quickly, because no one could understand vhat I vas saying. I got the hang of it. I still have problems vith the computers if I am not careful, though.”

“I’ve noticed,” McCoy replied, ordering something with chicken in from the replicator. He had to suppress a smile; he’s been on the bridge when Chekov signed into his work station, and it was almost endearing how carefully he had to speak to get the machine to understand them.

“So vhy did you learn some bits of Russian?” Chekov asked.

McCoy gave him a sheepish smile. “I wanted to be able to talk to you in your own language,” he said. “Even if it was just a little.”

Chekov grinned shyly. “I could teach you,” he offered. “Your accent is wery good for a beginner.”

“I’d like that,” McCoy said. “I’d like that a lot.”


End file.
